Toby
by Strabec
Summary: Sherlock finds a dog. John is not impressed. Oneshot.


Toby

Sherlock walked along the path in Hyde park, his long coat flapping in the breeze. The leaves on the trees were turning golden brown as spring passed slowly into autumn. There was a chill in the air which foreboded long, dark, cold nights. It was late and there were few people around, preferring to keep warm in the restaurants, bars and shops in the area. It started to drizzle and Sherlock's thoughts turned to 221b, he could probably make it back before the rain really got started. He was about to head back when a pair of large, sorrowful, brown eyes made him stop.

The eyes belonged to a dog of indeterminate breed which was tied to a tree by a piece of string. Sherlock's eyes darted over the creature automatically deducing and drawing conclusions.

_Abandoned 12 hours ago by a man 6ft in height, limp in left leg. Dog's collar removed. Man does not intend to return for it. Dog thin, not been fed for at least 2 days. Man does not care about fate of dog. _

The dogs fur was various shades brown and it blended in with the autumnal leaves perfectly. Weakness had prevented the dog from barking so no-one until now had seen it. The dog noticed Sherlock and attempted to stand on it legs which took several minutes. Sherlock stood watching it. Once the dog had got to it's legs it fixed it's gaze on him. It was trembling all over. The rain got heavier, the water droplets shining on the dogs fur. The dog sniffed in his direction. Sherlock turned away from it briefly scanning the area for people likely to take pity on the dog. Typical, no-one to be seen in a usually busy park. He looked back at the dog and narrowed his eyes. The dog looked back at him. There was a long moment as they continued to stare at each other. The dog wagged it's tail hopefully. Sherlock sighed in exasperation.

John was returning from dinner at Sarah's when he received a text.

**Get dog food. SH**

It was with some dread he bought a tin of dog food from a late opening newsagents. What did this mean? Was Sherlock going to try and prove humans could survive on dog food? Please god no. John thought, at the same time reminding himself not to eat _anything_ made by Sherlock for at least the next week. But at least this experiment couldn't be as bad as finding human limbs in the fridge. John entered the sitting room and made his way to the kitchen. He vaguely registered Sherlock sitting at his desk deeply engrossed on the computer.

"Did you get the dog food?" Sherlock asked.

"Yes. What do you want it for?" The question died in his throat as he turned around to see a dog sitting upright on his chair.

"Sherlock, that's a dog." John said stunned.

"Yes." Sherlock said without turning.

"Well...what's it doing here?"

"I didn't have anywhere else to put it. Besides I didn't think you'd approve if I just left it."

John hesitated. As usual he felt as though he was approaching this conversation from the wrong direction. Sherlock had the annoying habit of presenting his conclusions with no hint as to how he arrived at them.

"OK. What happened?" John said slowly.

"It was abandoned in Hyde park." Sherlock replied. John was about to ask whether he was certain it's owners hadn't just left it temporarily, but this was Sherlock he was talking to. Sherlock turned around and looked thoughtfully at the dog.

"It was abandoned today, but it hasn't been fed for at least two days. So I think it would appreciate some of that tin your holding."

John quickly found a bowl and put it on the floor, the dog rushed over, sniffed at the food briefly and then began to eat enthusiastically.

"How could anyone just leave it?" He asked the room at large. John knelt down and scratched the dogs head. Even though it was still eating, it's tail wagged furiously.

"What are we going to do with him?" John asked and looked at Sherlock. For the first time a frown clouded Sherlock's brow.

"Ah, you hadn't thought that far had you? Seriously Sherlock I can't see you taking him for walks, or cleaning up his poo."

"Couldn't you look after him?" Sherlock asked. John laughed slightly.

"Oh no! I'm not taking responsibility for a dog you've decided to be kind to." The dog looked up from eating and starting watching them in turn.

"Hmm Mrs Hudson could take him?" Sherlock suggested.

"Mrs Hudson doesn't want pets in the building!" John pointed out.

"Oh? How do you know?" Sherlock asked. John stared at him

"It's in our tenancy agreement. You didn't read it did you?" No, John thought, of course he didn't read it. He regarded 221b as a space he could do with what he wanted. This including shooting holes in the wall, leaving unmentionable things in the fridge, freezer, microwave, oven, and any other drawer he could find. John was glad he had a strong stomach. Still a dog wasn't a bad as some of the other things he could bring home.

"We'll call Battersea dog's home." John said and started to look up the number on his phone. Sherlock looked at the dog, which looked back at him.

"Yes, good idea." Sherlock said and turned his attention back to the computer. The tone in Sherlock's voice caught John and he stopped.

"You don't want him to go to Battersea?"

"It is the best option. On the other hand if he doesn't find a new home they might have to put Toby down." Sherlock was typing on the computer again as though it didn't matter to him one way or the other.

"Toby? Whose Toby?" John asked. Sherlock turned and smiled at the dog, who started to wag his tail again.

"Look I know what you're doing! Give him a name and hope I get attached to him!"

"You started calling Toby 'him' instead of 'it'." Sherlock pointed out.

"The dog is not staying Sherlock." John said firmly. Sherlock fixed him with a piercing gaze. He was used to getting his way and by now he was used to John doing what he told him to do. But from the look on John's face it seemed as though this was one occasion where John was going to stand his ground. Sherlock knew full well all he had to do was to push a bit more and John would give in. John suddenly spoke.

"Got it. Lestrade!" He said.

"Lestrade?" Sherlock asked puzzled.

"Yes," John said typing the number on his phone, "don't you remember? The triple murder in Kensal Green? Lestrade mentioned that his family were looking for a dog."

"Did he?"

"Of course you wouldn't remember because it had nothing to do with the murder." John said.

"At last, you're learning!" Sherlock replied.

"Yeah, you're a steep learning curve. Oh Lestrade, look I'm sorry to bother you...first day off in seven months? Really?...Then I am really sorry to disturb you but you mentioned wanting a dog?..."

Sherlock was still deeply engrossed on his computer. John had settled down in his chair and Toby had settled down on his lap, when Lestrade pushed the door open.

"So where this dog then?" He asked a little grumpily. Toby looked up at the noise and trotted over to Lestrade, sniffing at him.

"Sherlock found him in Hyde park.." John started.

"Any chance of tracing the previous owners?" Lestrade asked looking in Sherlock's direction.

"The man who left him was about six feet tall with a limp in his left leg. The dogs collar was removed to prevent further identification. Toby hadn't been fed properly for at least two days, possibly longer. He'd been left possibly because he couldn't afford to keep the dog, more likely because his wife is expecting a child. Although that is just conjecture."

Lestrade looked at Sherlock his mouth slightly open. "So that's a 'No' then?" he said. Sherlock smiled.

"Yes Lestrade. That's a no."

"Fine." Lestrade bent down and patted the dog's head. "Hey Toby, want to come home and meet the kids?"

John and Sherlock swapped looks of incredulity, but said nothing. Toby wagged his tail at Lestrade then looked at John. Toby then trotted underneath Sherlock's desk, where seconds later he'd leapt up between Sherlock's legs and sat on his lap. He looked expectant.

"Look, what now?" Sherlock asked irritability. Toby looked at him with his large brown eyes and licked Sherlock's face. Both John and Lestrade tried to hide grins at the way Sherlock screwed up his face in disgust. Toby leapt off Sherlock's lap and trotted back to Lestrade. It was almost as though the dog was saying "Right I've finished saying goodbye, let's go."

"OK," Lestrade said, shaking John's hand. "I dare say I'll see you both soon, whether I want to or not."

"Feeling's mutual" Sherlock commented. Lestrade grinned and with Toby trotting obediently at his side, they left.

"John." Sherlock said a few moments later. "Did you know that some pet food is tasted by humans before it is sold as pet food?"

Oh god. John thought.


End file.
